An Unexpected Affair
by LordChaos03
Summary: OC/FemShep romance. UPDATE: Now a full-blown story about Chuck the N7 Paladin and his five other comrades as they go through Alliance training and serve with the fleet before and during the events of ME3.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This was originally written as a shock/joke response to a Gamefaqs topic which asked what would you do if your Shepard offered you a drink and started flirting with you. Well, here's what ****_I_**** would do with my FemShep. This is my first piece of writing that isn't a research paper or persuasive letter, so bear with me.**

_Ahh, Purgatory. Nightclubs really don't get much better than this. All the chest-thumping beats to get the ladies in the mood to dance, all the drinks to boost even the most introverted guy's confidence, and probably the best lights show this side of the galaxy._

"Hey, big guy, is this seat taken?" a smooth female voice broke through the loud music next to me.

"Oh, no. Go ahead, I'm here by-" _Holy_ _balls, that's Commander Shepard. Ok, be cool, be cool._

"Hi there, Commander. The name's Charles, but my friends call me Chuck. How you doin'?"

"Just fine. What brings you here besides the drinks and dancing?" Shepard asked in a rather upbeat manner.

"Oh, well, I'm on liberty. About to head out for a 4-week training evolution." I tried to be as non-specific as possible.

"Are you Alliance?" she asked with raised eyebrows. "That's not a uniform I recognize."

_Dammit. _"Well, I'm, uh, actually just a midshipman at the moment." I explained. "We wear old Earth military uniforms."

"Mmm," Shepard mused. "Well, I'd be lying if I said you didn't look good in yours." _Christ, is she flirting with me? Boy, don't you screw this up!  
_  
"Heh, well, you fill out those BDUs like nobody's business." _Oh jeez, was that too forward?_

"Oh? See something you like?" Shepard's voice had suddenly taken on a coy tone. _God, did I! Her ass looked as if it had been sculpted by Michelangelo himself, and those perky C-cup breasts were without a doubt my favorite kind.  
_  
"I certainly do," I winked, my voice dropping into a more voracious tone. What are the odds of me seeing more?"

"Pretty good," she winked back. "If you can deliver."

"Well," I adopted a more swaggering attitude. "They don't call me the UPS man for nothin'." Shepard burst into a fit of laughter, nearly falling off her barstool.

"Oh dear God! That was terrible! But funny as hell, though."

"I'm glad I could amuse you, at least. You have a beautiful laugh."

"You're too kind," she replied, still giggling. "That's it, you're coming home with me." Shepard grabbed my arm, spilling my drink, and before I knew it we were out the door and in the elevator.

_Score!  
_  
The Commander and I hurried through security and passed through her ship's decontamination without a hitch. But as my luck would have it...

"Hey Commander, who's that?" a husky voice came from across the galaxy map. _Shit, shit, shit, that's Kaidan Alenko. I heard from the Galactic Enquirer that he and Shepard were dating. Not the most reputable source, but I was NOT about to invoke the jealous wrath of guy who was not only a biotic but who could shoot a lethal dose of electricity at my man-parts.  
_  
"ROTC midshipman. I'm giving him a tour of the ship. Who knows, by the time he gets his commission every frigate in the fleet might be a Normandy-class." I resisted the urge to let out a sigh of relief.

"Ha, have fun with that. I was the most annoying little shit back in my college days." Alenko chuckled. Shepard ushered me into the elevator.

"Oh, I intend to," she whispered in my ear. When the doors closed, Shepard grabbed my rear and cupped my crotch. I responded by wrapping one of my strong arms around her waist and placing my other hand behind her head, then crashing my lips against hers in a bold display of passion and lust.

She responded by undoing my belt while I lift up her tight uniform shirt, clearly letting her know my intentions for the evening. Suddenly, the elevator stopped on Deck 1, and she gave me a flirtatious wink before practically tackling me, wrapping her arms around my neck and her legs around my waist. Her cabin quickly became a mess as we both hurriedly divested ourselves of our remaining garments.

"Are you ready to have your mind completely blown?" Shepard asked with a sultry smile.

"You...better believe it," I panted, nearly out of breath from our foreplay in the elevator.

With a mischievous grin, Shepard used her surprisingly powerful arms to push me onto the bed. _Damn, I guess all those push-ups Marines do are good for something_. She pounced on my helpless body, grabbing my head and kissing me with an alarming hunger while straddling my lower body with her long, shapely legs. It should have come as no surprise that my manhood responded eagerly at this point, but Shepard still ceased her aggressive kissing and put on a knowing smirk.

"So, you think you're getting a happy ending tonight, eh?" she asked, seemingly amused.

"I thought that was a given when you took off my pants back in the elevator," I replied, a bit confused.

"Oh, it is. But you have to do something for me first," she whispered deviantly.

_Oh, no_. True to her dominant personality, Shepard lifted herself off me, scooted forward, and lowered herself onto my face, her womanhood a mere inch from my mouth.

"Let's see if you're just another boy who wants to have sex, or a man who can make love," Shepard moaned, her voice dripping with desire.

I was a virgin, but she didn't need to know that. I'd never live it down if my friends found out I was about to bang THE Commander Jane Shepard, but then she ditched me because of my lack of sexual experience. So I did what I've seen in Fornax and extranet porno sites. I pressed my lips to her "nether lips," inched my tongue forward, and traced the alphabet, hoping to hit that mythical erogenous zone which could make any woman cry out in pleasure.

"Oh God, right there!" Shepard moaned. "Oh please, don't stop!"

_Believe me, I wouldn't dare_. I figured I was really about to get it in, so I quickened my pace, darting my tongue in and out, from side to side, and in countless circles with the singular goal of getting Shepard off. Suddenly, I felt her muscles clench and her love juices squirt onto my face, while she screamed my name.

"YES! YES! Oh Chuck, YES! Ahhhhhhh!"

_Boy, when it rains, it pours._

"Ahhhh, God, that was amazing. I think you deserve a reward for your _hard work_." Shepard said as she climbed off my face.

_Yes yes yes yes yes yes yes!  
_  
"Here, you can have my panties," she chirped with a wide grin.

"But...but I thought...we were going to...you know-" I stammered in bewilderment.

"I'm just kidding! God, you'd think you've never been with a woman before." Shepard laughed. Before my secret was out, she pounced and pinned me to the bed. "Here," she whispered while taking my manhood in one hand and guiding it into her velvety passage. _Oh Lord, it feels like heaven. _Unable to resist the bliss of Shepard's sex, I thrust my hips up desperately.

"Ooooh, so energetic," she cooed while grinding her hips around.

"Damn right I am," I grunted while sliding out and readying my rod for the next push. I slipped back in and gyrated my hips back and forth while Shepard worked her hips up and down and played her hands across my developed chest muscles. _Jesus, she looks like an angel up there. A freakin' warrior angel._Her fiery red hair flew around her face, while her voluptuous breasts bounced in mesmerizing circles.

"Come on, Chuck, fuck me!" Shepard grunted. "Fuck meeeeeeeee!" _Time to take charge._I grabbed her shoulders and pulled her down while rolling both of us over on the large bed. I resisted the urge to make a joke about her now serving under me, and instead proceeded to jackhammer my member in and out of Shepard's tender womanhood.

"Ohhhhhhh, oh God, ahhhhhhhh, ahhhhhhhh!" Shepard loudly moaned while writhing beneath me. _I didn't think I'd be this good my first time._We did this for what felt like forever. Shepard's gorgeous red locks were sprawled across her pillow now. Her mouth was seemingly frozen in a permanent 'o' shape, and her eyes were almost rolling into the back of her head. Shepard's hands clutched fistfuls of the sheets. Eventually, I couldn't take it. My arms were tired from practically being in the front leaning rest position, and my member was nearly overloaded with pleasure at this point. Shepard came first, her muscles clenching around my manhood, causing me to lose control and explode inside her.

"Ahhhhhhh, Shepard!"

"Ahhhhhhh, Chuck!"

We collapsed, exhausted from our nearly two hours of frantic lovemaking. Shepard rolled us over onto our sides, wrapping her arms around my upper back while I did the same around her waist. _Huh, never would have guessed she's a cuddler_. I affectionately pressed my forehead to hers.

"I love you," I sighed while gazing into her beautiful emerald green eyes. _Wait, crap, that wasn't supposed to come out._

"You...you what?" Shepard asked in astonishment, while untangling herself from me. "Holy s***, you _were_ a virgin!"

"I guess there's no use hiding it now, is there?" I mumbled dejectedly.

"Awww, that's so cute!" Shepard squealed while pulling me into a comforting embrace.

"Wait, what?" I choked out.

"Hey, I'm glad I made your first time special," Shepard said. "But you know this was just a one-time thing, right?" I might have burst into tears right then and there.

"Yeah. Yeah, I get it. You're a Spectre and a Marine officer on a mission to save the galaxy and I'm just some college kid from New Orleans." I was definitely going to start crying now.

"Hey, hey, it's ok. You can spend the night with me if you want." Shepard offered with a friendly smile.

"Thanks, but I'd rather not be woken up by Major Alenko cryo blasting me in the face." I said, trying to cheer myself up with humor.

"He's probably going to be busy with reports all night, but I understand. Wait, before you go...you were really good. Amazing, actually. Someday you're gonna find a nice young lady who'll be absolutely head over heels for you. And I'll bet it won't be a girl like me who's putting her life on the line almost every day."

"Wow. That meant a lot, Shepard. Really, I needed to hear that." I chose this moment to sit up and get off the bed.

"Of course, and you can call me Jane. Here, do you have your omni-tool with you?"

"Yeah, why?" I responded curiously while tapping the implanted buttons in my forearm to bring up the GUI.

"Here's my contact info. You ever want to talk, just shoot me an email." Shepard handed me a small datapad.

"Oh man, thank you!" I exclaimed ecstatically. "Jane...good luck out there."

"I don't need luck; I have ammo. But thanks." She walked over and gave me a chaste hug. I returned it, albeit slightly passively. "Your clothes are, well, all over the floor."

"Ha-ha, I'll get going once I get dressed," I chuckled.

The End.

**A/N: Hope you guys liked it. Please leave a review if you have the time, and be honest so I can hopefully get better at this.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: No sex in this chapter, unfortunately. There will be in the next, though.**

3 years later; Quantico, VA; Alliance Marine Infantry Officer Course

Day 1

_Well, here I am, finally. Where the real work begins. IOC, otherwise known as "the Brick House" or "the Men's Club." Funny, considering that women have been allowed into the infantry since the 2030s. I guess some things are just too deeply ingrained to be let go._

As I marched in formation with the rest of my company of newly commissioned Second Lieutenants, I couldn't help but feel I've arrived. Ever since high school, I'd had the dream to one day lead infantrymen into combat. Today I began my training for that very job at the exact same place that had instructed the commanders of the legendary U.S. Marines. 3 weeks ago, my Staff Platoon Commander informed me that the course had changed very little since the early 21st century. "The only difference is you fire N7 Valkyries instead of M16s," he had joked. I had no doubt that the 86-day regimen would be just as difficult, if not even more grueling and challenging. We filed into the main room of the IOC building to receive our first instructions for the course. I, and every other Lieutenant, I'm sure, knew that the vast majority of our time would be spent outside the classroom. As such, we removed our helmets and enjoyed the air conditioning.

"Welcome to Infantry Officer Course, ladies and gents. I'm Major Rico Cavallo, overseer of this school. I'm sure you remember me from The Basic School where you just finished learning your basic officer skills. I'd hate to keep your instructors waiting, so I'll be short and to-the-point. The good news of finally being at IOC is that there are no more games like you had to put up with at OCS. Everything you do here is very much relevant to the job you'll be doing for the next few years. You won't have to worry about finding time to PT. All the training you do in the field will be more than sufficient to keep you in shape. And trust me, I don't care who you are: by the time you're done with those training evolutions, you won't even want to PT. The bad news is that there are no second chances and no babying. You fail a scored or timed event, you're out. You collapse and start projectile vomiting in the middle of a run, don't expect anyone to help you up. It may seem harsh, but I can very well assure you that combat is far worse. That said, I wish you the best of luck, even if you'll need way more than that to graduate and earn your B6 designation. Instructors, take charge of the company and carry out the plan of the day."

The three Staff Lieutenants who had been standing behind Major Cavallo quietly moved to the podium and set up a holoprojector. This was in very stark contrast to the loud, boisterous Drill Instructors at OCS who damn near turned the base upside down with their yelling and running around when they "took charge" of us.

"Today you'll run the Combat Endurance Test, the screening event of IOC which will determine whether or not you even have what it takes to begin the course of instruction. Make no mistake, this will almost certainly be the hardest thing you've ever done up to this point in your training, and at the end you'll want to give up your right nut or your right tit before going through it again. The CET is comprised of an unknown distance of running and an unknown number of events, to be done within an unknown time limit. Some of you less wise Lieutenants may be wondering why the hell this is. It's to ensure you are putting out at 100% at all times during the event. That's all there is to say. Now, head back to the barracks and get into full combat gear. Your time limit…is unknown. Go!"

We scrambled from the room, practically leaping and diving over each other to get to the door. Thankfully, I had been near the back of the formation as we came into the main IOC structure, so I was near the front leaving it. I continued my sprint toward the Quantico barracks, not even so much as giving a glance back as I input the code to my door and undid the buttons and buckles on my dress blues. I proceeded to move at lightning speed to open the closet vault in my room and attach the various Onyx Armor components to my body. Then I grabbed the standard issue weapons from the secure box next to my bed and began attaching them to the magnetic holsters. _Ok, you've done this a million times now. Assault rifle, right shoulder blade. Sniper rifle, left shoulder blade. Shotgun, lower back. SMG, left hip. Pistol, right hip. _Last but not least, I pulled my helmet on until the airtight seals connected around the bottom of my neck. Now scrambling, I ran out the auto-locking door and began the sprint back to the IOC building. It pleased me that I was one of the first Lieutenants to make it back. I sat next to a dark-skinned male near the back of the room.

"Hey," I panted. "the name's Chuck."

"I'm Alan," he greeted me back, extending a hand. "Good to see you're enjoying yourself here."

"Yeah, well, I didn't come this far to fail out on Day One, you know?" About 2/3 of the trainees had made it back.

"Please," a white female Lieutenant who had taken the seat in front of Alan scoffed. "You really think they'd throw you out half an hour in?"

"TIME!" one of the Staff Lieutenants bellowed. Another went, stood in the doorway, and called out that the rest of the 2nd Lieutenants (about a quarter) had failed and were to report to Major Cavallo at 0600 tomorrow morning for reassignment.

"There's your answer." I smirked at my two classmates.

"Glad we didn't make that a bet." the woman in front of us laughed. "I'm Christa, by the way."

Day 2

_The Staff LTs weren't lying about the CET. I really would give my right nut not to do it again given the choice._

IOC's screening event had me genuinely worried about what was yet to come. Throughout the whole thing, I believe we ran a total of 10 miles, performed pull-ups, ammo can presses, push-ups, and squats _ad nauseam _(literally, in some cases), and demonstrated our proficiency in various field tasks such as disassembling and reassembling a Mattock rifle, firing a Mako cannon at a target, rappelling down a cliff face, and climbing a rope. None of the tasks were very difficult by themselves, but there was the fact that all of them were done after about a mile of sprinting in full gear plus an 80-pound pack. There was also the added stress of not knowing what was next or how much time we had. I'm told that about 48 of the original 100 Lieutenants had made it through. Thankfully, this included my new friends Alan and Christa. We'd met up a few times during the CET and chatted while on the move. Alan had been an American football running back at the University of Oregon, and just wasn't good enough to go pro, so he signed up with an Alliance recruiter after graduating. Christa had been a shot-putter at the Naval Academy. At least I wasn't alone going through the rest of this.

Day 87 – Graduation

I looked in the mirror before leaving my quarters at Quantico for the final time. Even in my blues, I could tell I'd lost more than a few pounds. I looked very much like a track sprinter I knew in high school. Skinny from all the physical exertion, but very muscularly defined from it, as well. Thankfully, I'd figured out during IOC that Marine training is intentionally made harder and suckier than it has to be so most combat situations (brief firefights followed by prolonged boredom) won't even come close to fazing us.

"'Sup, Chuck!" Alan cheerfully greeted as he clapped me on the back. "You finally glad to be done with this?"

"Dude, you have no friggin' idea. No lie, I was starting to go a little crazy." I meant it, too. IOC was definitely not for people who need their full eight hours of sleep every night or who need liberty every weekend. The hours felt like days, and the days felt like weeks.

"Man, we all were. But there's no doubt about it now. We are the best of the best now. Ain't nobody can take us on and come out alive!" Alan boasted to no one in particular.

"Oh, I don't know about that," a chipper female voice rang out behind us. "I had Alan here about ready to surrender last night, if you know what I mean."

"I really could have done without that mental image, Christa," I cringed. "Really, do you have to clue everyone in that you two are screwing?"

"Just the ones who freak out about it like you," she sniggered. "You can't tell me you haven't wanted to just sing it to the world that you've had sex after a fantastic lay." All I could do was shake my head and click my tongue. Christa was right, though. 3 years ago, I'd lost my virginity to the most amazing woman alive, Commander Jane Shepard. Yes, _the_Shepard. Even days after it had happened, I was pinching myself, praying it hadn't all been a dream. And I really had wanted to just tell everyone I'd done it. No one would have believed me, though, so I kept it to myself.

"Well, we should probably get down to the Brick House," I said to my friends. "Wouldn't wanna be late for our own graduations."

33 of the original 100 Lieutenants had made it through IOC to earn the coveted B6 designation. On the outside, we looked like starving refugees, but inside we were glowing with pride. We were finally ready to enter the Alliance's operating forces as infantry platoon commanders.

"…above all, know this," Major Cavallo addressed us. "Your learning does not stop here. You'll learn even more about what it means to be a combat leader with your first command. If you perform in combat in an admirable and effective fashion, you might receive the B7 in your profile. Even then, never stop trying to gain knowledge. Never stop trying to improve yourselves. The moment you do is the moment you lose your edge. That edge is what gains the respect of the troops serving with you, and it's what scares the hell out of our enemies. You have all done very well here, but now it's time to enter the real world. When I call your name, come up to the stage to receive your certificate and the packet with your first real orders."

The ceremony wrapped up at around 1000 hours. As if by fate, Alan, Christa, and I had all been assigned to a Special Forces team with the Alliance Fifth Fleet. However, that wasn't where we were heading next. Our orders included permits to report to the Interplanetary Combatives Training Academy in Rio de Janiero, Brazil for 1-week specialization training. Alan, being a larger and stronger guy, was selected to become a heavy-hitting Destroyer. Christa, her career as a shot-putter not going unnoticed, was selected to become a grenade-lobbing Demolisher. I, for reasons I'm unaware of, was selected to become a shield-wielding Paladin. _Things could be worse, I suppose._

**A/N: I know I didn't explain very much about the training at IOC, but that's because I haven't been there IRL yet. I am still just a midshipman like in the first chapter. Unlike SEAL and Ranger training, they keep nearly everything about USMC infantry officer training a secret. I wouldn't even have known about the CET if it weren't for a recent article about how women are starting to be evaluated at IOC.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I forgot to mention this in the last chapter, but Alan and Christa are inspired by a GameFAQs thread that suggested the N7 Destroyer is like the N7 Demolisher's abusive boyfriend.**

Interplanetary Combatives Training Academy, Rio de Janiero, Brazil

Alan, Christa, and I stood in line with 3 other officers at the armory to get our gear. Compared to IOC, none of us were that nervous. We'd finished training how to fight. Now we'd learn how to do it with style.

"Once you receive your class armor and weaponry, head outside, sit on the deck, and stand by for further orders." the armory chief droned at us.

"Hell yeah, a T5-V Battlesuit!" Alan grinned. "This thing's got a fucking missile launcher on the shoulder and a wrist-mounted grenade launcher."

"You wanna trade?" Christa joked. "All I got besides the standard armor is this Supply Pylon to carry around."

"At least you practically have unlimited ammo and grenades. What am I, a knight?" I half-heartedly activated the omni-shield I'd been given.

"The hell, brotha?" Alan asked incredulously. "I'd bet money on that thing saving our asses if we ever deploy."

"No pressure, though." Christa winked. The three of us trotted outside, Alan opting to tease Christa by snatching her Pylon and holding it above her head, just out of her reach. He eventually gave it back once we'd reached the briefing area, a large patch of dirt in front of a holoprojector. An uncharacteristically short Staff Commander marched out of the ICT headquarters building and hit the "on" button, displaying a massive N7 logo.

"Listen up, everyone! I'm Commander Costa, senior instructor here at ICT. First off, despite the location, you are not N7s, nor are you even shooting for an N1 indicator. You ain't special. There are six of you here at the moment is 'cause every group is on a different schedule. The only reason you are here is because the Joint Military Council, in all their infinite wisdom, likes what they've seen in the performance reports of N operatives and wish to give regular infantry-that's you-the opportunity to use the more cutting-edge gear in the Alliance arsenal. As such, you can forget about all that high-speed stuff you see in the vids like zero-gravity combat and jetpack flying. Your first exercise will be a simulated ground assault on a batarian bunker. You'll deploy in a Kodiak shuttle. Secure the area, then eliminate all hostiles and deactivate a distress beacon inside to signal for extraction. Your Destroyer will serve as team leader. I'll be observing via your helmet cams. Get to it."

Said Kodiak was already landing behind us, its thrusters blowing dust all over the briefing area. We wasted no time in donning our gear and boarding the shuttle to be taken to the mock bunkers.

"Ok, those who don't know me, I'm Alan. Guess I'm the TL for this op. I've been thinking about how to do this. Our Slayer and Shadow will use their Biotic and Electric Slashes along the enemies' flanks to keep them from splitting up or dispersing. The Fury and I here will lay down covering fire and biotic throws while the Engineer," Alan nodded to Christa. "sprints to the front of our formation, set up her Pylon, and tosses grenades to wipe up the remaining enemies. The Paladin," Alan pointed at me. "will deploy his shield in front of the Engineer. Everyone got it?" The rest of us nodded or otherwise affirmed our understanding.

"30 seconds from the LZ!" the pilot hollered.

"Only difference here is this fancy gear. Other than that, y'all know how to fight. Stick to the plan and we'll be good." The shuttle landed with a jolt and the hatch opened to reveal a barren wasteland with a three-story high ziggurat-style bunker and conveniently-placed chest-high walls all over the place. Almost immediately, we could hear simulated bullets rattling the sides of the shuttle.

"GET TO COVER!" bellowed Alan. "MOVE!" He didn't have to tell us twice. All six of us sprinted for all we were worth and ducked behind walls.

"Where the hell are the batarians?" asked our Shadow.

"Uh, God, I don't know. Follow the plan!" cried Alan.

"We can't, genius," scoffed Christa. "Your plan hinged on the enemy being out in the open within thirty meters."

"Well, that doesn't mean we're screwed," I piped up. "How about this, we buddy rush them."

"It's as basic as tactics get, but I guess that's why they teach it early." our Fury mused. _Thank God I didn't make an idiot of myself by suggesting that._

"New plan, then," said Alan with renewed confidence. "We buddy rush them. Pick someone to be your partner, and move up to the first level of the bunker." I paired up with the Fury. Alan, of course, paired up with Christa. The Shadow and Slayer, appropriately, teamed up for the rush.

"Hey, I'm Valentina," the Fury introduced herself. "You ready to do this?"

"You bet," I grinned. "Let's go!" The six of us moved up in quick but cautious fashion, buddy #1 laying down covering fire while buddy #2 advanced until buddy #1 needed to reload, and vice-versa. Within a few minutes, we reached the main entrance to the bunker.

"Good job, y'all," Alan said jovially. Right then, I wouldn't be surprised if they got turrets in there waitin' for us to storm in. Regardless, we stick to the original plan because they're probably bunched up."

"You're really proud of that plan you made up, aren't ya?" Christa teased.

"Hey, I'm the TL," Alan scowled. "And it's a solid plan considering I about made it up on the spot." Christa just shook her head, but cocked her pistol, signaling that she was ready. Sally, the Shadow, hacked the lock on the door with her omni-tool and punched the holo-panel once it turned green, then slid to the right to use her Slash. Buzz, our Slayer, moved to the left to do the same.

"Sweep and clear!" shouted Alan. He whipped out his rifle and fired at will, intentionally aiming higher than usual to allow me and Christa to move in. I turned my shield toward the side of the room with more simulated batarians, while Christa laid down her Pylon and began lobbing Arc Grenades. Within a couple seconds, all of the "enemies" were down.

"Is it just me, or was that easier than it was supposed to be?" Christa wondered aloud.

"Stay frosty," snapped Alan. "I bet they just want us to think resistance was light. Chuck, you and Valentina scout out the next floor." She and I nodded, then headed up the stairs.

"What in the…?" Valentina scratched her head. "Here's the beacon. Let's deactivate this thing and get outta here." I pressed the button on the side, causing the beacon to cease its whirring and spinning. Suddenly, two smoke grenades went off with hisses, obscuring our vision within seconds.

"Augh!" cried out Valentina, who had been hit with burst of sim rounds and fell to the ground. Before I could react, I felt the butt of a rifle smash into the side of my helmet, stunning me. A holographic batarian appeared and kneed me in the groin, bringing me to the ground. Despite my assailant being virtual and made of elaborate kinetic barriers, the pain was very real.

"Shit! They're in trouble," Alan blurted. "We gotta clear out the second floor." The other four of our teammates rushed in, knocking out the surprise attackers. I could see Christa standing over me, and the Reviving wheel appeared on my training HUD. Valentina and I got to our feet, brushing off our armor and picking up our rifles.

"How about we clear the last floor together so that doesn't friggin' happen again?" I exasperatedly suggested. We moved up two-by-two to the third floor, being sure to check our corners and not to touch anything.

"It's clear," Alan declared. "Let's get back outside so the shuttle can pick us up." The six of us wordlessly headed back down and out of the bunker. Sure enough, a Kodiak awaited us, with Commander Costa smugly standing in the door in his N7 armor.

"Come on, kids. The sooner we do your after-action report, the sooner you all can hit the hay." We boarded and sat down, all a bit somber after our first training mission hadn't gone quite the way we had hoped. "You guys-and girls-did ok," Costa began. "You accomplished the mission, which in the end is all that really matters. _However_, you have a lot of room for improvement. Alan, this was the first time I've seen that particular plan, and it was damned effective on the first floor of the bunker. But you were informed that this was a fortified bunker, and you _really_ thought the targets would just be sitting ducks waiting to be mowed down? Come on, I know they teach you better than that at IOC."

"Yes, sir. I was trying to play to the strengths of our specializations," Alan morosely replied. I didn't really think about the specific situation we'd need to pull the maneuver off."

"No, you didn't. And that's where you went wrong. You made the mistake of adapting your fighting style to your technology, when you should be doing the opposite. Despite all these newfangled toys you've got, you're still riflemen at heart. The basics are still 'shoot, move, communicate.' Secondly, you made a reckless decision by unnecessarily splitting up the team. I don't know what possessed you to do a scouting op in close quarters, but in actual combat that would have gotten your teammates killed, no doubt about it. Finally, in your haste to complete the mission, you forgot to hack the terminal on the third floor for valuable intel. Even if there are no hostiles, you still turn the place upside down for secondary objectives. However, only a handful of teams ever find that terminal, anyway." The shuttle landed just outside the barracks back at the N-School. "Get some sleep because this week sure as hell ain't over." Costa called out. _I suppose that could have gone better. Then again, we didn't fail._

Christa, Alan, and I were to share a room, while Valentina, Buzz, and Sally had the room across from ours. I couldn't decide which was worse, Buzz getting overwhelmed by that female energy, or me having to listen to Alan and Christa humping like rabbits.

"Don't worry, guys, I'll take the couch." I resignedly said.

"Like I was gonna let you have the bed, anyway," Alan laughed. "Come on, baby, I bet you're just _achin'_ for some of my Alabama black snake after a long day like that."

"Aren't you from Oregon?" I chuckled.

"Shut up, it's a vid reference. I'll let you touch Christa's boob if you get it right."

"Uh, Platoon?" I shrugged.

"Nope. Close, though." Alan grabbed Christa by her shoulder straps and pulled her down on top of him.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, you guys aren't actually going to do this with me in the room, are you?" While I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to see Christa naked and getting plowed, it made it awkward that they were my friends and squadmates for the near future.

"Damn fuckin' right we are," Alan sneered. "Heh, pun unintended."

"Hey, hold up!" Christa put her hand out to stop Alan from getting on top of her. "If Chuck isn't comfortable with us doing it with him in the room, maybe we should just ho-" SMACK! In the blink of an eye, Alan slapped Christa across her left cheek with one of his powerful hands.

"Now don't you start!" In two swift motions, Alan shucked off his navy blue PT shorts and pulled down the front of Christa's, readying his potent "weapon" to use on her. "I'm just obtaining my conjugal rights."

"We're not even married, you son of a-AHHH!" In a far from gentle fashion, Alan sheathed his impressive man-meat inside Christa's pink quim, drawing a moan of pain and pleasure from the shapely woman. "Oh, oh god, oh, right there! Don't stop." It was all I could do to not run out of the room and never even think about going back until morning. ICT had a curfew, though, and serious disciplinary action was a real possibility if I were caught. _Guess I just gotta put up with it._

"Yeah, baby, look at you," Alan gloated. "All 'no don't do it,' but once you got my package in you, you be moaning like a two-credit ho." _What the everlasting fuck? It's like a train wreck. I shouldn't watch, but I just can't look away. _Alan continued to pound away at Christa's womanhood with his substantial endowment, eliciting small mewlings and loud squeals whenever he got a little rough. Christa's hair was disheveled and spread out within minutes from her squirming on the bed. Meanwhile, her tender nether lips stretched to accommodate Alan's prodigious cock, seemingly trying to swallow the phallus whole. Any objections Christa had to her and Alan's coupling were clearly gone as she wrapped her strong, toned legs around Alan's waist, pulling him in deeper with every muscle-driven thrust. Throughout all of this, I couldn't help but notice the similarities between Christa and Shepard in bed. Both were capable and even dominant figures on the battlefield, but when it came to lovemaking, they preferred to be controlled by a man. The bouncing and undulating of Christa's large breasts especially reminded me of Shepard and I's first (and only) time together. And yet, I couldn't help be envious of Alan. The way his far larger-than-average manhood made Christa immediately submissive and desirous was remarkable.

"Ah! Oh BABY!" Alan's exclamation snapped me out of my thoughts. "Yeah, I'm gonna cum, baby. I'm about to lay my black jism up in your womb. You want that, baby? You want that?"

"Yes! Yes!" Christa screamed. "Fill me with your virile sperm, Alan! Fill me up with that big old cock of yours!" _Why am I watching? Why am I watching? Why am I watching?_

"Ooooooh! Fuck yeeeeah!" Alan slammed his hips home as he came, stretching Christa's pussy lips one last time before letting his potent cum spurt out. Christa's legs shot in the air as she climaxed from the sensation of Alan's jizz hitting her cervix and invading her womb. Her vagina, very much filled with Alan's cock, overflowed and leaked semen from the seal her labia formed with his shaft. Within a minute, Alan had collapsed and Christa had laid back and fallen asleep.

_What have I gotten myself into?_

**A/N: If you couldn't see the pattern, most of my characters are named for astronauts. Alan Shepard, the first American in space. Christa McAuliffe, the teacher who died when the Challenger space shuttle exploded. Valentina Tereshkova, the first woman in space. Sally Ride, the first American woman in space. And last but not least, Buzz Aldrin, the second human to set foot on the moon.**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Expect updates to be regular, but much less frequent from here on out. I'm going to shoot for an update every 3 weeks. Classes have started here at my university, and it's unreal how much of my free time NROTC is sucking up, especially with me being a Marine-Option. That said, I will do my best to make this a satisfying story, and I promise that Jane Shepard and "I" will reunite at some point.**

3 weeks later, 0500 hours, 2186

_Journal of 2nd Lieutenant Chuck D:_

_The six of us from ICT) have been assigned to the Marine Detachment aboard the cruiser SSV Nairobi, attached to the Third Fleet. Currently, the ship is just doing patrols around the Arcturus system, making sure the batarians don't decide to hit the capital in retaliation for the Bahak system's destruction. Officially, we're each in command of a platoon of 40 infantry Marines, but I have the feeling that, more often than not, it's just going to be us six deploying as a small Special Forces team doing recon and direct action missions. That said, this is technically my first real command. Part of the "tip of the spear," as they say._

"Lieutenant!" rang out an older woman's voice from my doorway.

"Ma'am?" I got out of my chair and snapped to attention, curious about what our XO, Lieutenant Commander Anna Glenn, had to say at this hour.

"Report to the CIC. Captain's orders." the LC said gruffly, turning to exit my room.

"Aye, aye, ma'am." _We must have received some new orders for the ship or something. Hopefully we'll get out of this patrol mission soon. Not saying I want to "see some action" necessarily, but this is just plain tedium. _I got up from my bed and started making my way to the deck's elevator.

"Chuck, you know what this is about?" asked Alan, who fell in step beside me.

"Not yet, bro. I got about as much of a clue as you." I shrugged.

"Damn. Well, hopefully we'll actually deploy somewhere. I want to get some!" Alan bashed his fists together in the typical krogan style. The elevator stopped on the top deck with an electronic "ping," and we stepped out together as the door's opened. The rest of our N7-trained team along with the CO, XO, and our company commanders, Staff Lieutenants Neil Knight and Iven Crossfield were already gathered around the circular galaxy map.

"Listen up, ladies and gents," Captain Bridgeman began while standing in front of the display. "Approximately three hours ago, the entire Batarian Hegemony went dark. No propaganda broadcast waves, no bursts within their territory, and no comm buoy traffic originating from any batarian systems. We're still in contact with the rest of Alliance space. So, either something is taking them down from the inside, or the forces that took them out came from outside the galaxy." _The Reapers are here. Hell…_

"Navy crew, you're to report to your battlestations and stand by." said Lt. Commander Glenn.

"Marines, you're to do armor and weapons checks and be ready to deploy at a moment's notice." stated Lieutenant Knight.

"That means until otherwise specified you will do everything, including sleep, in your hardsuits with weapons strapped." said Lieutenant Crossfield matter-of-factly.

"The Marines aren't gonna be happy about that." Christa murmured.

"When are you Marines ever happy other than when you're killing something?" said Glenn in an admonishing tone. "By the way, nothing we just discussed here is to leave this room until we do official briefings."

"Roger that, ma'am." I acknowledged, trying not to hide my dismay.

"Hey look," Valentina chirped as us six platoon commanders piled into the small elevator in the back of the bridge deck. "Now we can't even justify _why_ the troops have to sleep encased in ceramic."

"Fuck it," I sighed as the lift began its slow descent to the crew quarters, where most of the Marines would be. "We'll just say we have an imminent threat coming. We don't have to tell them anything about the batarians or the Reapers."

"Ho, ho, hold up," Buzz interjected. "You did not just say Reapers. Don't tell me you actually think those things exist."

"Well, what the hell else do you think it is?" I inquired defensively. "The Alliance isn't going to try any deep cover operations after what Commander Shepard supposedly did on Aratoht. The other species don't really have any quarrel with the batarians, and what else is there outside our galaxy?"

"Hey, hey," Sally jumped in. "There's no reason to get worked up about this. Enemies are enemies. Let's wait until we actually get the call to kick their asses before we start worrying about specifics."

"Now that I can live with." Alan said, settling our dispute. "We're here anyhow. Let's get 'em all mustered up. You do the honors, Chuck."

"Right," I put on my business face, walked over to the intercom handset for the deck, and detached it from its holster. "Reveille reveille reveille! Marines, attention! Starting now and lasting indefinitely, you are to wear your hardsuits and all five of your assigned weapons at all times except for showering and using the head. You're to have your full helmet either on or within reach." As if on cue, groaning and cursing could be heard coming from the racks and sleeper pods. _That's why they wanted me to do it. _"The time is 0515. You have until 0600 to take care of your hygiene, get changed, and muster in the shuttle bay for a briefing from Lieutenant Knight and Lieutenant Crossfield." I hung up the headset. "All right, let's get down there."

The six of us grabbed MREs from one of the galley cabinets and headed back to the elevator. Buzz hit the button for the shuttle bay, and we began the long and slow descent to the ship's bottom deck. _Seriously, it's the twenty-second century. Why the piss are elevators on Alliance ships so goddamn slow?_ The intel brief in the CIC suddenly had me dwelling on the relationship (or whatever it was) I had with Commander Shepard. I hadn't written to her since inviting her to my commissioning ceremony almost four months ago. Unfortunately, she was forced to decline due to having just turned herself and the Normandy in at Alliance HQ in Vancouver. Even then, I doubted she would have driven or flown all the way down to New Orleans just to see some guy she slept with get his gold bars pinned on and receive his sword.

"Chuck, you straight?" Alan waved a hand in front of my eyes.

"Huh?" I realized the elevator had opened and the other Lieutenants were starting to file out. "Yeah, guess I just started daydreaming."

"All right. You had this far-off look in your eyes and I thought you were about to pass out or something. Anyhow, let's do this." The six of us stepped out into the massive shuttle bay. Rows and rows of UT-47A Kodiaks and M35 Makos sat idle along the bulkheads, while makeshift workout equipment (spare Mako cannons as pull-up bars, for example) sat unused near the middle. Lieutenants Knight and Crossfield were near the middle, tearing open packets of spaghetti and bread.

"Take this time to eat and get your gear from the lockers, ladies and gents," Knight called out. "We've got a busy day ahead of us."

By 0600, all of the Marines had fallen into their respective platoons, with us six 2nd Lieutenants standing in front of them facing Staff Lieutenants Knight and Crossfield.

"ALPHA COMPANY!" Knight barked.

"PLATOON!" Alan, Valentina, and Christa turned their heads and called.

"ATTEN-HUT!" Knight's voice cracked like a whip, and the first three platoons snapped from parade rest to the position of attention.

"BRAVO COMPANY!" Crossfield yelled.

"PLATOON!" Buzz, Sally, and I turned our heads and shouted.

"TEN-HUT!" Crossfield's voice echoed, and the remaining three platoons snapped to attention.

"Most, if not all of you," Knight began. "are probably wondering why you're in full gear. I'll put it to you clear, no BS: there's some shit coming and we have to be ready. I know it sucks, but it's what you signed up for. Platoon commanders, you're to continue maintaining your Marines to the high level of readiness we've established."

"That means weapons maintenance, that means close order drill, and that means physical training," Crossfield added. "I'll let you schedule and delegate as you see fit. That's all from me." I turned toward my platoon, deciding simply to wing whatever speech I had to give.

"I know y'all don't want to hear my blather on about the importance of maintaining your bodies and staying fit to fight and shit, so I'll make this short, sweet, and to the point. There's a war ahead of us. Not everyone will be going home alive after it's all over. I hate to say it, but we have to face facts. If there's anyone in your life you're close to or need to settle things with, now's probably the time to do it. You know I'm not big on drill, but today I expect every one of you to clean your weapons and do the barbell lifting circuit I wrote, along with pull-ups and crunches. We'll do a knockout drill competition later if we have time. Platoon Sergeant, I have some business I need to take care of. You're in charge until I get back. Dismissed!"

I opened the hatch on a Mako and climbed into the turret, one of those places that made most people feel claustrophobic but gave me a sense of security and coziness. I then pulled out my DataPad and began typing an email draft.

_Commander Shepard,_

_Hey, it's Chuck. How are you, other than antsy from being locked up at Alliance HQ? I'm on the Nairobi, and I finally have my own command. 40 Marines, all ready to kick down the gates to Hell if I asked them to. God, that must seem like another life to you. I mean, I guess it _was_ considering those two years you were, well, you know._

_Anyway, that's not what I wanted to say. The thing is, Shepard, I miss you. I know you said to try and find someone else, but there's no one out there I feel anything for except for you. I'm sure you hear this all too often, but you inspire me more than anyone else does. I'd sort of idolized and developed a crush on you since seeing your Spectre induction those three years ago, and it was love at first sight that month later when I met you at Purgatory and you took me back to your ship. You're the epitome of a leader, a fighter and a human, and I want to be just like you one day. But besides that, I want to see your beautiful face, hold your glorious body in my arms, and kiss your soft lips again. I need you in my life again._

_I don't know how much you're hearing back on Earth, but those Reapers you keep on trying to warn everyone about? I think they're coming. Admiral Singh sent out a message to all the ships in our fleet, and a few hours ago we had an intel brief saying that the whole batarian race just went silent. Just, if I don't ever see you again, know that I cherish the short time we had together. It was one of the few that made me really feel human. Please, stay safe._

_Very respectfully,_

_Chuck_

**A/N: Whew! That was fun. By the way, I know continuity seems to be a bit screwy. It's because I never planned this story to go anywhere past the first chapter. But I got it figured out, though. The first chapter (AKA the sex scene) took place in 2183, let's say after Therum (the Purgatory club existed back then). The second, third, and this one are taking place in the last couple of months between the end of the Arrival DLC and the start of Mass Effect 3. Oh, and the next chapter is going to be very interesting. I'm basically going to be novelizing the Fall of Earth. You know, that whole Codex entry where the Reapers pour through the relays, destroy Arcturus Station, etc. Yeah, I'll strive to do that justice. Again, please review so I know what I'm doing right and wrong. I honestly feel like my writing is slipping a bit.**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: This will essentially be a straight-up action chapter novelizing the fall of Arcturus Station and the Sol System to the invading Reaper forces at the start of ME3.**

I hesitated to hit the "Send" button, thinking for a moment about what this would do to the already minimal relationship Shepard and I had. The whole situation reminded me of a situation I had been through during the summer between graduating high school and starting college, in which I developed an easy-going friendship with a girl from my graduating class and then proceeded to ruin that friendship by telling her of the feelings of attraction I had for her, which she did not reciprocate. Above anything else, I never wanted anything like that to happen again. The post-failure depression just was not worth it. _Fuck it._ I hit the send button and threw the DataPad onto a storage crate.

I climbed out of the Mako turret, jumped down, and returned to my platoon's area. Most of my Marines were involved in some sort of workout. I noticed six doing a powerlifting routine with some improvised weights, two squads running through a calisthenics workout, a couple others doing sets of push-ups based on cards drawn from a deck, and another squad taking turns doing pull-ups on a Mako's main gun barrel (turned to the left so the barrel actually protruded enough out to the side to be mounted by one person at a time). My platoon sergeant was doing curls and tricep extensions with a 155mm cannon round.

Suddenly, an alarm went off, and red strobe lights began flashing around all corners of the shuttle bay. The "clanks" and "bangs" of weights dropping or being racked filled the room in seconds as Marines

"All hands, you are to secure yourselves in anticipation of turbulent ship maneuvers," Captain Bridgeman's voice sounded over the intercom. "Navy crew, utilize your safety belts and switch your mag-boots on. Marines and shuttle pilots, board your shuttles but do not begin preparations for take-off just yet." Like birds drawn to bread crumbs, all of the current occupants of the shuttle bay scrambled toward the Kodiaks, wiping their sweaty faces and strapping on their helmets as they went.

"Sir, what's going on?" my Platoon Sergeant, Service Chief Tony Bush, asked wide-eyed.

"I don't know. This came out of nowhere." I replied truthfully. "Hey, look, you've got the platoon. I have to meet up with the other five PLs. We're a special team for situations like this." I turned to find the said five N7-capable Marines when Chief Bush tapped me on the shoulder.

"Sir! Good luck." Bush offered his hand. I took it, giving him a firm handshake.

"Thanks. You too. And hey, these are your guys. You've been with them way longer than I have. Not to mention you're on their level somewhat. I'm just some officer who came in and took command not even two weeks ago. You know them, you know how to use them, and you know and how to take care of them. Don't worry; I'll be back before you know it."

"I'll hold you to that, sir." Chief Bush turned to board a Kodiak with our platoon's first squad.

"Chuck, over here!" beckoned Valentina from across the bay. I strapped on my helmet and jogged over, stepping on board the UT-47A and closing the hatch. Inside, it was nearly pitch black, with only a couple of LED lights for illumination.

"Ladies and gentleman, this is your captain speaking. My name is First Lieutenant Jesse Vickers. At this time, please return all footrests and tray tables to the upright position. Be advised that this is a-"

"Sir, would you kindly shut up?" hollered Alan in an irritated tone. "We got Christa here tapping into comms to see what the hell's going on." Vickers fixed Alan with a stone-faced gaze for a few moments.

"I'm just gonna pretend I didn't hear that. Carry on." The pilot turned back to his instruments. Meanwhile, Christa was working with a comm unit on the deck in the middle of the shuttle, fiddling with knobs and inputting lines of code.

"Signals are weak, but I can boost them using my tool. Apparently Arcturus Station picked up something on the long-range scanners." Christa said while holding her omni-tool to her ear. "They just sent out a call to the Sixth and Seventh Fleets."

"Shit, that's out in the Exodus Cluster," whispered Buzz. "Nothing could get that close without _someone_ noticing."

"I know something that could." I whispered, more to myself than Buzz.

"Hey, Chuck, if it's actually the Reapers, what are we gonna do?" asked Alan. "We're riflemen. We might as well throw rocks if Reaper ships are anything like that dreadnought that attacked the Citadel three years ago."

"We follow our orders. That's all we _can _do." I said resignedly.

"Sixth and Seventh fleets report nothing. Their scopes are clear." Christa shrugged.

"I don't get it. How could an invasion force not want to take Terra Nova? Even without the buttload of platinum, there's millions of people living there." I wondered aloud. At that point, a shockwave shook the whole ship.

"Ahhh! Shit!" groaned Christa, who had been squatting in the middle of the shuttle and got thrown against the hatch by the ship shaking.

"All hands, the system is under attack by an unknown invading force!" Captain Bridgeman screamed over the ship-wide intercom. "Brace for evasive maneuvers!" Alan helped Christa strap in, setting the comm unit in her lap so she could continue updating us on what was now obviously a full-blown battle.

"Second Fleet reports over a dozen capital ships," Christa reported. They're opening fire and are on an attack course for Arcturus Station!" Another shockwave forced the ship out of its intended trajectory.

"Damn!" exclaimed Sally.

"Hang in there; we're still fine." Valentina comforted her.

"All hands, Captain Bridgeman is dead." sounded Commander Glenn's voice over the intercom. "I hereby assume command. Crew, continue to return fire!"

"Shit. The station's going down. The Prime Minister and all members of Parliament are presumed dead." Christa continued to report.

"Fuck, it's on now!" Alan bellowed. "They better start landing some ground troops so we can kick their asses."

"Not happening," Christa's voice took on a more frantic tone as she monitored comms within the system. "Admiral Hackett just ordered the Third and Fifth Fleets to retreat. He's using the Second Fleet as cover to buy us time."

"Crew, cease fire." Commander Glenn somberly ordered. "Helmsman, get us out of here. Marines, stand down and return to your quarters." The shuttle's hatch opened, and the six of us filed out with our postures considerably less confident and our faces undoubtedly grim. "All officers, report to the CIC."

"Sir, what just happened?" Chief Bush and the other five platoon sergeants came running up to our group. "Why are we leaving? We barely put up a fight!"

"Enough." I snapped. "We're still kind of in the dark. Suffice it to say, we had to pull out of there so we could live to fight another day."

"But Arcturus, sir?" Valentina's platoon sergeant asked incredulously. "That's like what happened back in the 1800s when the Americans let Washington, D.C get burned to the ground."

"Look, I know. It's a big loss, but you need to understand and make sure the platoon understands that we couldn't have made any difference by staying. Reapers are too strong for conventional tactics."

"So they're real?" Alan's platoon sergeant asked in an awestruck manner. "They're what hit us?"

"Yes," answered Christa. "Commander Shepard was right."

"All of ya, go take care of your platoons," Alan ordered.

"Aye, aye," all six platoon sergeants dispersed.

"We need to get up to the bridge," reminded Buzz. "XO, er, CO's waiting."

"Right on," I agreed. I had just treated Captain Bridgeman's death as another event during the alarmingly fast fall of Arcturus and put it in the back of my mind, but Buzz's misspeak actually let it sink in that it was _our CO_ who just got killed. That kind of thing simply doesn't happen every day._ Death doesn't discriminate, I suppose._ The eight of us took the long walk across the shuttle bay back to the elevator, all of us likely too deep in thought and contemplation to say a word. As the lift rose to the top deck, we could see the vast expanse of space out the stern observation window. Normally, the beautiful sight would be immensely calming, but right now, it only served to remind us how small and insignificant we are in the grand scheme of the universe, which was not the best thing for our collective morale after essentially being forced to turn tail and flee.

"It's a shame," Sally suddenly spoke up. "That was this ship's first combat engagement. A couple pot shots and an FTL retreat."

"Wait, this thing's really never been in a fight before today?" Alan perked up, surprised.

"Nope," Lieutenants Knight and Crossfield said in unison. We stood in silence for the rest of the ride up. After a minute that felt like an hour, the door finally opened. Commander Glenn awaited us, a somber expression on her face. In the background was a massive hole in the starboard hull, hastily patched with a kinetic barrier. The galaxy map flickered with red dots around the entire "southeast" part of the Milky Way, which belonged to the Alliance and formerly the Batarian Hegemony. The tension in the room could be cut with a butter knife; we all knew Glenn was about to drop the hammer.

"You know how in movies and TV shows, the person says they've got good news and bad news?" Glenn asked shakily. "Well, it's just bad news this time." She hit a button on her omni-tool, and a split-second later, all six of ours beeped to indicate a new message. Eager for any kind of word about the situation, we immediately opened them.

_From: ALLIANCE FLEET OPERATIONS_

_**FLASH FLASH FLASH X1A.34**_

_ALL ALLIANCE MILITARY PERSONNEL:_

_THIS IS A GALAXY-WIDE ALERT FOR ALL HUMAN TERRITORIES. FLEET ADMIRAL HACKETT HAS DECLARED THREAT CONDITION SABER ONE. ENEMY PRESENCE CONFIRMED IN SOL SYSTEM. EARTH UNDER REAPER ATTACK._

_ALL ALLIANCE MILITARY PERSONNEL ARE DIRECTED TO EVACUATE SOL SYSTEM AT FIRST AVAILABLE OPPORTUNITY. DO NOT ATTEMPT EARTH APPROACH. HEAVY ENEMY RESISTANCE REPORTED. REPEAT. DO NOT ATTEMPT EARTH APPROACH. FURTHER INSTRUCTIONS TO FOLLOW ON CODED CHANNEL CRIMSON TACIT._

_EARTH-BASED ALLIANCE PERSONNEL UNABLE TO EVACUATE ARE DIRECTED TO COMMENCE ANY AND ALL NECESSARY COUNTERMEASURES._

_ALL REMAINING ALLIANCE PERSONNEL OUTSIDE SOL THEATER ARE DIRECTED TO MUSTER AT PRE-APPOINTED STAGING AREAS AND COMMENCE OFFENSIVE COMBAT OPERATIONS AT FIRST AVAILABLE OPPORTUNITY._

_IN ABSENCE OF FURTHER INSTRUCTION, INDEPENDENT ACTION IS AUTHORIZED._

"Well, I guess that's it, huh?" Christa quietly asked, her eyes still fixed on the ground. "We're at war now."

**A/N: Not the most descriptive narrative for the Fall of Earth, I know, but I wanted to keep this story just from Chuck's point of view, which required me to use the comm intercept scene. This actually helped convey the point that the initial invasion happened REALLY quickly. As in, faster than almost anyone could react.**


End file.
